


Black Orchids

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [45]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: F/M, war zone violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: She could have told everyone the truth, but Murphy wanted Peter by her side her when she did. She wanted them to believe her when she told them she and Peter had realized they were being stupid and that misery didn’t love company. She wanted them to eat their hearts out when he took her hand and pulled her close and kissed her in that way that always made her knees weak.





	Black Orchids

**Title:** Black Orchids  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Gen  
**Timeframe:** _Old Flames_ (season 8)  
**A/N:** Okay, so if you’ve been reading, you know that I’ve been playing with “canon.” Why? Because, as I’ve said before, the people in charge made a stupid decision and I’ve elected to ignore it. But what was the stupidest decision was the sexist nonsense of the dream episode. The lazy writing that didn’t research anything in canon, that didn’t explore her relationship with Peter, and then left everything hanging at the end. So, here we go.  
**Disclaimer:** Diane, fix it. I mean, I’m doing my best, but I don’t make any money off of this. You do!

 **Summary:** _She could have told everyone the truth, but Murphy wanted Peter by her side her when she did. She wanted them to believe her when she told them she and Peter had realized they were being stupid and that misery didn’t love company. She wanted them to eat their hearts out when he took her hand and pulled her close and kissed her in that way that always made her knees weak._

Working at home was not conducive to actual productivity, but damnit, Murphy was going to try anyway. But, once she walked in the door, Avery needed attention and even after he went down, she needed a shower and a change, and it was ten o’clock before she was curled up with piles of books and notes and a nagging feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

Okay, it wasn’t that anything was wrong. The truth was, she was pissed. She’d allowed herself some stupid dream about being able to take Peter to this dinner everyone else was at tonight. She’d even bought a dress and a matching cummerbund for his tux. She’d had a necklace made that matched his grandmother’s ring. The one she’d taken to wearing again on her right hand, where no one noticed.

Only she knew about the calendar she’d kept up over the last three months and ten days since Peter had kissed them goodbye and headed to the airport. In some fit of girlish fantasy, she’d hoped they could go tonight, announcing to the world they were back together. Shutting everyone up. Stopping Corky’s inane rambling about love in middle age. Stopping Frank’s shifty, guilty side glances. God. She just wanted Peter home.

This was a good story. It was a story that most reporters killed for. She’d have killed for it. It was powerful and passionate and knowing Peter would tell the truth about the lives of those most people sought to demonize. But more than all of that, she knew his this story, if it all panned out, was going to net him a contract with CNN that most reporters killed for. A contract that would mean he’d be gone more than ever. But, at least she’d know where he was all the time. This embedded with the rebels crap in Mogadishu was scaring her. He was supposed to emerge from his fox hole ten days ago.

So instead of admit her disappointment, she’d talked up her story and the need to work on it, which was the truth, but really she didn’t want to go to this thing and sit there sipping her club soda with lime while she wished desperately for a TV tuned to the news. At home she could force herself to focus. She could have told everyone the truth, but Murphy wanted Peter by her side her when she did. She wanted them to believe her when she told them she and Peter had realized they were being stupid and that misery didn’t love company. She wanted them to eat their hearts out when he took her hand and pulled her close and kissed her in that way that always made her knees weak.

So, she stayed home. She stayed home and reassured Frank - because maybe he might like someone - and did exactly what she was worried she would do.

She conked out. Hard. Falling into one of those naps that was maybe only half an hour but felt like days and left her shaking as she woke. What stayed with her after the fog of sleep had fallen from her shoulders wasn’t the weird ass courtroom scene her subconscious put her in, taunting her about her inability to manage relationships and making her wonder yet again why she and Peter had split up in the first place. No. What left her terrified was waking up to realize she’d dreamed he’d come in the door and flirted with her and made her tea. She’d taken the flowers he’d handed her and suddenly, she wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. She’d actually called him to check even though she knew he was out of the country and now she was scared because her eye kept drifting to the bud vase and the dying rose in it and she didn’t understand why there weren’t freshly cut black orchids instead.

The feeling in her gut wasn’t going away.

With a groan, she moved back to the kitchen, poured the tea that her dream self had been sure Peter was making for her, and turned on the TV. Background noise would help. She really did have work to do.

She just didn’t expect to see the object of her dreamlike obsession standing in the center of the frame, the burned out husks of buildings behind him. Well, if he ever decided to quit news, he’d make a hell of a director. She turned up the volume as she slid off the couch, scooting closer to hear his voice. Apparently he was officially done being embedded. Which meant he could come home soon. Which meant she could hold him and beg forgiveness for her apparent inability to do anything right in relationships. God her subconscious was a bitch.

“Mommy?”

Shit. She turned her head and held out her hand to Avery, who came to curl up in her lap. “How did you inherit my sleep patterns?”

Avery just grinned. She kissed his head. “Daddy!” He pointed to the screen.

God. “Yep. There’s Peter. You miss him don’t you?”

“Yes.” Avery snuggled close.

“I miss him too. But he’ll be home soon. I promise.” She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair.

They watched the interview about the situation proceed.

Later, Murphy would somehow process that she watched everything in real time. In the moment, all she knew was that she grabbed Avery and covered his face, turning him away from the TV. She remembered Avery’s scream, but she didn’t process just how much he might have seen. She only stood up, Avery in her arms, and reached for the phone, which was already ringing. Yes, she told Miles, she’d be in the studio as soon as she could get down there. She processed Reena trying to take Avery, but he wouldn’t be separated from her.

Later, she’d realize that the rubble behind him exploded, taking out the camera and leaving only static. Watching the footage, she’d see how the mortar shell hit and the angle it took before everything went cracked and fuzzy. Later, as she settled into the process of her job, she would stare, helplessly, as over and over, she watched the man she loved be taken by surprise by the very people who sheltered him. In the moment, all she could think of was the words she’d uttered as her dream ghost came to her -

“I don’t know if you’re alive or dead.”

What was that, Miles?

There were reports of gunfire and no one could get through to the Somali journalists on the ground. “Hey, buddy,” she balanced him on her hip, trying to calm both of them, “Mommy has to go to work and keep telling the story of what happened. But, why don’t you come with me? Hmmm? And that way, if I find daddy, you can talk to him too.” She wiped Avery’s tears away and tried to smile. “Does that sound okay?”

Reena hovered close by. “Do you need me to come?”

“Yes, please. I need someone who can watch him …”

“I’ll get dressed,” Reena said, taking the stairs two at a time. “And I’ll get clothes out for Avery too.”

Murphy set Avery down. “Go get your little go bag, okay?” Before his last assignment, Peter had taught Avery how to pack a go-bag for when assignments came up overnight. He’d found a little camo-colored backpack and decorated the zippers with different keychains from where he’d been. They’d packed Avery’s shoes and socks and some jeans and his favorite blue t-shirt, so he could be just like Peter.

Avery bolted up the stairs as fast as his little legs allowed. Murphy followed. She grabbed her own go bag and two clean suits from her closet, just in case. There was a very good chance the network would send her over there.

“Please, Peter,” she muttered as she slipped into something halfway professional while Reena readied Avery to go along for the drive because he just couldn’t be separated from Mommy, “please be alive. Please.”

Murphy trundled Avery out the door, his backpack bouncing against his legs. Reena followed in her car. Murphy secured him in his booster seat and settled in, trying to focus. She flipped through the cassettes, trying to find something that would calm Avery. Peter’s preferred Beatles album was up first and she popped it in. The tape was still cued to Let it Be and despite the instant tears the song produced, she let it play. Avery sat in the back, clutching the stuffed lobster Peter gave him, singing quietly to himself.

“Let it be … let it be … let it be …” he kicked his little shoes, staring out the window. “Let it be … let it be …”

The song ended and Avery asked the question she was most scared of. “Do you haf to go der?” He was looking at her in the mirror. “Do you haf to go tell the story?”

She took a shaky breath and turned her car toward the network building. “I hope not, baby. I hope that I don’t have to go over there.”

“I don want you to go. Bud if you do, find daddy.”

The tears started fresh. “I will, baby. I promise.”

As they pulled into the garage, Avery’s tears started fresh. Murphy was so very glad Reena was going to be there. Gently, Murphy unbuckled Avery from his booster seat and tucked him close.

“Hey, buddy, look at me for a second, okay?”

Avery did, snot running down his face, mixing with tears. Murphy pulled a handkerchief out of her bag and wiped his face. “Hey, there’s my guy,” she smiled at him. “You’re scared, I know. Mommy is too. But you need to be strong right now, okay? Because right now, we need to get the story. We need to find out what happened. And we can’t do that if we’re crying okay? It’s okay to be scared, but we have to do the hard work. That’s what Peter was doing. Okay?”

Avery nodded and sniffed, wiping his face. Murphy kissed his temple again. “So here’s the deal, Mommy needs to go work on the story and she needs you to stay with Reena. And you can stay in my office or in the back of the studio, and do your own story work there. But I need you to really help me and Peter out here.”

Avery nodded again, always wise beyond his years. Jeeze. What had she done to her son? “Okay, Mommy.” She put him down and he took her hand as they walked to the elevator, unlatching so he could push the button. As they emerged into the lobby, Reena was there, waiting, and came over to take him. Murphy led them to the second bank of elevators and while waiting for the car to arrive, switched the ring from her right to her left hand.

***

Avery wouldn’t be placated in her office, so she and Reena made a space in a small corner of the studio. He knew to keep himself occupied but they all knew full well that he’d be sitting there, watching them report. He wanted his daddy after all. Tears pricked at her eyes again. If she hadn’t lost the baby, she and Peter would be getting the nursery set up. He’d be home.

No. The Mogadishu assignment had been the story of a lifetime and she’d never have forgiven him if he’d turned it down because she was pregnant. They weren’t reporters just when it was convenient to do so. The story always came first.

She changed quickly, smoothing out her tear-faded makeup and bringing her professional self to bear. She could do this. She could go on air and not embarrass herself. But sitting at her dressing room vanity, she could only stare at the photo of her and Peter and Avery on the mirror. Frank had snapped it right after they announced their engagement and to anyone else, it looked like his arms were just around her, but they’d joined their hands over the baby no one knew about. The night before he’d left for Somalia, he’d broken down all over again.

“I wish I could fix it for us,” he’d cried, his face resting on her stomach. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with how I was feeling but I wanted you to feel safe and … God. I love you.”

She reached out and plucked the photo from the mirror. He was coming home. She hadn’t put up with months of misery just to watch him go up in a puff of smoke.

“Murphy! They need you out there!”

Taking a breath, she focused her game face and went to report the news.

“A recap,” she said as John threw the coverage to her. “About two hours ago, a dissident compound outside of Mogadishu was bombed. What do we know? There is chaos on the ground, and military troops are being called to the area.” Hold it together, she lectured herself. Avery had moved and was sitting next to Miles’ director chair, clutching his lobster. His eyes, so much like Peter’s stared at her. “The footage you are seeing is of the … the camp as it exploded.” Miles, in his wisdom, hopped out of the chair and grabbed Avery, walking him back to Reena before he could see from the footage of Peter being buried under a pile of rubble. It wasn’t something Murphy wanted to see again, she really didn’t want Avery going through it on an endless loop.

Frank’s interview with a local academic who was studying the situation in Somalia was ready and thankfully, John cut away. Murphy collapsed and tried to catch her breath, realizing that despite Miles’ best efforts, Avery had watched his father go up in smoke over and over and over again. She stepped away from the desk and bent down to grab Avery as he ran over to her. He knew he had to be quiet, but that didn’t stop him from burying his face in her neck and grabbing the lapels of her blazer. “Daddy …” he was murmuring, over and over again.

Murphy just stared at Miles. “For the love of god,” she said to her boss, “find him. Please.” It was an empty plea. They all knew the work that was already being done and that she also wouldn’t be the network’s first call. After all, she wasn’t his wife. No one but Frank even knew they were back together. Hopefully, hopefully, Miles would overlook that if they found anything. God. She needed to get on the phone to her sources. But Jim was one the phone with his, which meant she was anchoring things.

But right now, the network knew what she knew, the building behind Peter exploding, the debris raining down, and the image of journalism’s most daring reporter going fuzzy and fading to static as the dust blew into the camera lens. She rocked Avery, waiting for the warning from John, listening to Miles prep the next segment. She was up, talking to the guys from CPJ, asking the dreaded question - what did they think the likelihood was that Peter Hunt and his crew had survived.

“Avery, honey?” She looked across the room at Reena, who was exhausted but hanging in there. “Honey, I need you to do mommy a favor.” She set him down and crouched to his level. “I need you to go with Reena and play in mommy’s dressing room, okay?”

Avery rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Why?”

She sighed and decided to be honest with him. “Because, sweetheart, I’m going to be asking some very smart people questions about your daddy and I need to know that you are okay while I do it. I promise, when I’m done, I’ll come and get you, okay? But can you go in my dressing room and play there?”

“Bud Mommy …”

She touched his nose. “Do this for me, okay, baby? And Peter. He needs you to be strong right now, okay?”

The emotional manipulation worked and Avery nodded. “Okay …” He took Reena’s hand and they walked away. Murphy turned her attention back to Miles.

“All right, I know these guys from the CPJ. Get me some footage of Somalia from the last year, preferably without Peter Hunt in it,” she sucked in a breath. “Let’s make this happen.” Sure, confident steps took her back to her interview chair and she settled in. This was her game. This she could do.

***

The crew from The Next Wave took over at dawn. Murphy schlepped to her dressing room, in desperate need of washing her face and changing her underwear. So far, the network wasn’t sending her to the site, which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen. But she also knew things could change in a heartbeat.

Avery was asleep on the couch, one of her jackets pulled up like a blanket. She sighed and crouched down, running her fingers through his strawberry blonde hair. He stirred and opened his eyes. “Daddy?” He asked, again.

She shook her head. “Nothing yet, honey. You want to go home with Reena?”

“No,” he pouted. “Not without Mommy.”

She wasn’t going anywhere. The network was using her for backup coverage throughout the morning and the cable channel wanted her on in twenty minutes for an update. “Okay, then let’s go see if there’s a donut for breakfast, okay? Cause mommy needs to eat.”

“Okay,” he nodded and took her hand. Murphy gave up changing. So she looked rumpled. She’d been on air all night.

They walked to the craft table and she handed Avery a cake donut while she ignored the jelly. She wasn’t really hungry.

“Murphy?”

Miles voice caught her attention and she turned, suddenly feeling the blood drain out of her body. He stood there, next to Lansing. “No …” she whispered. “No, please …” Avery looked up at her and put his hand in hers again. She just picked him up.

“Murphy, we’re having Frank fill in for you with the cable channel,” Miles said. “Let’s … go somewhere and talk.”

Breathing was impossible, but she found her footing and followed Miles and Stan up to Stan’s office. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t have watched the man she love be killed on television. Avery started to cry as they walked and she tried to soothe him, but it was impossible because she couldn’t calm herself.

“I love you,” he’d whispered as he held her that last night, their bodies cooling. “And we wasted so much time but I’m back in this if you are, Murphy. I’m right here.”

Her knees buckled as she sat on Stan’s couch. Miles took a seat next to her. Stan leaned against his desk. All she could do was stare at the ring on her finger.

“They found him,” Miles began. She swallowed, tears welling up. What was she going to tell his mother? “The president of the network affiliate in St. Louis is on his way to talk to Peter’s parents as well. We know you two aren’t together anymore, but … you …”

“Actually,” she said, raising her head, “we are back together.” She held up her hand, showing off the ring. “No one knew because he was going to Mogadishu and we were still working some things out. So. I’m … look. Just tell me.”

Miles actually reached over and took her hand. Shit. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the reality. He was gone. At least he hadn’t gone thinking she was angry at him. Avery’s eyes were wide and he stared at Miles. This was what this felt like. She’d reported on this kind of a situation so often she’d lost count. But this was what it felt like.

“Somehow,” Lansing broke in, “he’s still clinging to life. The military choppered him out and he’s on his way to a hospital. But the spotty reports we have are that he is unresponsive at the moment. So we don’t know how it’s going to go.”

“Where are they taking him?” All she could focus on was the word ‘unresponsive.’

“The ideal location is Germany, but we have to get him there.”

She nodded, trying to breathe. Avery looked at her. “Daddy?”

“He’s alive, honey.” She stroked his face. “But he was hurt pretty bad.”

Avery frowned and nodded. He was getting good at that. The tears were threatening to spill over and she just couldn’t keep her breath even. Miles squeezed her hand and she shook her head, fighting back the wave that was washing over her. Everything she was told her to get back down to the studio, to tell the story. “When you get him to Germany,” she said, “I’m on a plane. We both are. Once he’s stable, all I care about is Peter. Understood?”

Lansing and Miles both nodded.

“I want updates. Regular ones.” Again, both men nodded. She let out a breath and stood up. “Thank you for telling me … I know you didn’t need to.”

Miles only smiled. She took Avery’s hand and walked out of the office, priding herself on making to the elevator before crashing against the wall and unleashing the tears of relief. He was going to be okay. He had to be.

***

She had to give Stan credit for the network paying for first class for her and Avery on the flight to Ramstein. She was also glad that Avery was so exhausted, he slept most of the way. She couldn’t rest. Every time she closed her eyes, all she was treated to was a movie of her own life, ducking bombs and hiding from war lords. She couldn’t focus on anything, so she stroked Avery’s hair and prayed to gods she didn’t believe in.

Peter was, according to Stan, stable. His leg needed pins, and his shoulder had been dislocated, and he had a concussion, but he was going to be okay. Murphy had tried to reach Peter’s parents, but they were already on the way. So, that was going to be a fun conversation when they got there. But right now, she just wanted to see Peter.

“Miss Brown?” The flight attendant asked, “Did you want a copy of the paper?”

“No…” she shook her head. No news. Nothing right now other than Avery and the collection of letters she’d saved from him. He was going to be fine.

He had to be.

***

She changed in the bathroom in the airport, donning a simple pair of black pants and a scoop necked t-shirt that kept her comfortable under the white sweater of his she’d opted to pack, topping the look off with the blue scarf she knew he loved. Her hair was a disaster and would stay that way, so she just pulled it into a ponytail before turning to Avery and peeling him out of clothes that probably should be burned. She rolled them into a tiny ball and wrapped them in two plastic bags before shoving them in his bag.

The car was waiting - another gift from Stan - and the adrenaline built as they moved through the streets to the airbase. She presented her credentials and the guard glanced at Avery before they were waved through to the hospital. This, she knew, would be tougher. She wasn’t his wife. His family had the right to keep her away. And, as she suspected, Katherine was there at the door, waiting.

“Literally the only reason I am letting you up there,” the older woman snapped, “is because the first thing he said when he opened his eyes was Avery’s name. He wanted Avery and he wanted you. So you can stay. But so help me, Murphy, if you stress him out, you’re gone. I don’t care how smitten he still is with you. He’s back in surgery again, so you can’t see him anyway, but I’m just warning you.”

Avery was looking between them, clinging to Murphy’s hand. She wasn’t going to fight. “Katherine, I’m here because I care about him. Can we fight about this somewhere away from the nurses’ station so that they don’t kick us both out?”

Luckily, Katherine could see reason and led her upstairs to the lobby. Peter’s father was there, glaring at her, and Murphy took a seat away from both of them. Avery crawled up into her lap.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?” She was digging through his bag, looking for a book. He’d slept so much of the trip he now had energy. She was running on what was laughingly considered fumes.

“Why do you like Daddy?”

“Well,” Murphy said, trying to keep herself awake, “a lot of reasons. He is funny and he’s smart and I really like the way he gives me hugs.” She sighed, knowing Katherine was listening. “And he makes me better at my job, and he loves you so much.”

“How did you know?”

“How did I know I liked your daddy?” She asked, laughing, ignoring Katherine’s angry glare. Mama Hunt could hear this too.

“Yes!” Avery grinned.

Murphy was happy to oblige. “Well, see, we went to a whole different country called Israel for a week. Your uncle Miles, he told us we had to work on a story together. And your dad and I, we weren’t happy about it. So the whole way there, I teased him.”

Avery giggled. “You tease all da time.”

“Yeah, I do. I like to tease him, huh?” Avery nodded. She chuckled. “But we got there and see, where we were going, women keep their heads covered.” She pulled her scarf up over her head. “Like this, see? It’s part of how they dress and to be polite, women who visit there, they do it too.” Avery grinned. “Well, we were going out to this place in the desert and it was really, really hot and I needed my scarf to protect me from the sun. But we were in this jeep that bounced everywhere and my scarf, it kept falling off my head, so I gave up and figured I would hold it when I needed to. Well,” she smiled and touched his nose. “Your dad, when we got out of the jeep, he helped me down. And he had his hands on my waist and my scarf was down and see, your daddy, he looked into my eyes and he smiled. And we’d been pretending this whole time that we didn’t like each other, but I knew then that I really liked him and I could tell he liked me. But we had to do our jobs. So he just reached over and pulled the scarf up on my head and got it fitting just right. And I never forgot that.”

Avery reached for the scarf that she was wearing and looked at it seriously. “Is daddy gonna be okay?”

She sighed. “Yes, baby.”

“An he is coming home? To stay wid us?”

She nodded. “Yes. We’re gonna take care of him and he’s gonna get better.”

“Like when he had a broken leg?”

“Yes, baby. Just like that.”

Avery grinned and wiggled down to go play with his toys. Katherine leveled her with a glare. “Why are you even here, Murphy? You two broke up. Why are you telling Avery lies?”

“We’re back together.”

“Peter didn’t tell me that.”

She sighed. “It’s recent. Honestly, it happened just a few days before he left for Mogadishu and being out of contact wasn’t great for us just starting things up. Look, Katherine, I don’t need to explain everything --”

“Yes. Yes, Murphy, you do. You two were getting married. You called off a wedding. You aren’t his wife. Why are you here?”

Murphy stared at the other woman, weighing the importance of telling her the truth. She could tell her about the blood clots, the terror on the way to the doctor’s office, the strained phone call. She could tell her that at eight weeks, a miscarriage felt like her insides were being ripped from her and that she wondered if each and every blood clot was the fetus of her child. Their child. She could tell her what it felt like to be cramping so badly she couldn’t stand up but she wasn’t sure if it was from the miscarriage or the tears, and that when Peter raced through the door a week later, pale and guilt stricken, it was already too late. She’d already closed herself off because she hadn’t been good enough. She hadn’t been strong enough. Her lapse had hurt their baby. She could tell Katherine this, but she didn’t. “I love him,” is all she said. That would have to be enough for now.

***

The hospital let Katherine and George go first, tending to their son with tender ministrations. Murphy sat back, jet lagged and cranky, and her last nerve being tested even with Avery. Twenty minutes later, Katherine emerged, her face drawn in a thin line. “He’s asking for you and Avery,” she said.

Avery jumped to his feet, suddenly excited again. “DADDY!!!”

Murphy had to corral her son as she followed a nurse down the hallway to a room. Taking a breath, she hefted Avery to her hip and walked inside. Suddenly, Avery started to whimper. Tubes connected Peter to a number of different machines and drips, and his arm and leg were both in casts. Being prepped by the doctors didn’t take away the trauma of the moment.

But he was awake and when she came in, he reached instantly for her. Romance was averted by Avery starting to wail. “Daddy!”

The room stopped cold and Peter switched his focus. He motioned for her to put Avery on his lap and she did, and Avery curled up against his father, the emotional trauma of the last 72 hours finally culminating in exhausted sobs. “Daddy …”

Peter cradled Avery to him with his good arm. “Hey bud, I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Murphy whispered as she took a place next to his bed. “But …”

“I’m glad he’s here,” Peter whispered. “Both of you.”

“You look like hell, you know.”

“You look amazing.” He sighed. “Thank you …”

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed with him. Instead, she let Avery cuddle him. She gave him the moment with his son, and tried not to focus on the reality that if she hadn’t lost the baby, they’d be home in DC. He was fine. Well, he was going to be fine. The rest they would figure out. Right now, they were here. Together.


End file.
